Hitler's Bloodline Novels & Stories

“I think I know why Damon was kidnapped.” That got him. Lucas’s fingers stilled. “Go on.” “It’s not just about you or your family,” I said. “I mean—” I fumbled for a second, furious at myself for showing weakness. “I haven’t been totally honest with you. About my lineage.” He leaned forward, predatory. “You said your great-grandfather was a tailor. Are we about to learn he was actually a Nazi or something?” “He was a hybrid.” I spat the word out, daring him to react. “Vampire, with a werewolf bloodline. One of the originals, from the old country.”

The Volkovs, Sidorovs and Orlovs are lineages of sick bastards that do not deserve to exist," he said with pure venom. I already knew it was a personal vendetta, so I decided to find out why. "Why so much hatred that would make you go this far and sacrifice lives?" I asked him, and he smiled. This bastard was guilty of what he accused my father of. He had recruited people, tricked them, and disposed of them, minors included, and that was a terrible crime.

Isaiah replied and clicked his tongue. "I hate when you do that. Anyway," he looked at the doctors. "Do not think about the Halls. No one with that special blood exist again. Things have changed. Everyone from that lineage are dead. Remember they killed them all during the war? The enemies saw them as a threat." The doctor who had spoken up shook his head. "You are correct and wrong at the same time, doctor Asher. In fact, there is one more member of these family that still has this special blood flowing through her vein."

“The great wizard of time is a descendant of your father. He may have been born with the gene of his mother who was a werewolf and had hidden the truth about his father, who was your grandfather from him, but like we say… blood is thicker than water. My lord, your mother and father both came from a lineage of immense power and dominance, while your sister has inherited the witch's power and very little of the werewolf traits, you are the pinnacle of their power and so are your offspring. You've not only been mated to a lycan queen but a twin born with the powers to control the Shadows. Are the bloodline of Ozaratti and just like the witches of the dark mountains had said, your reign had not

In front of him at the table was a wine bottle 1863 written in bold letters. I moved to the next photo. Same bluish eyes. Nose similar to the man I had seen in the previous photo. Sharp jawline. This one had lines on his forehead. I skipped to the next ones. Colors disappeared from the photos as I walked down the hallway. History and the family’s predecessors. A cold frown etched onto their faces. Noble Lineage. Wealthy personae. Powerful demeanor. That was the entire leadership of the Decardo family I was seeing here and I flinched back as the realization slammed itself into my brain that this the forefathers of a man who killed my father, my family.

as his voice cut through the silence. “What do you mean by that I said?” The air felt cold. William looked at me this time, then he said slowly, “Not even your blood or any blood from your relatives. The blood from your family could kill him.” The room spun. My breath came short and sharp. “Kill him?” The word tore out of me like a scream. William’s jaw tightened, his voice calm but heavy with something I couldn’t name. “Yes. It could trigger a fatal reaction. We need a perfect match, and it cannot come from your family line either.”

A supreme illusory image was slowly released. It was an illusion of playing the zither. The shadow sat cross-legged, and a string of the zither trembled slightly. However, a stream of soaring killing intent turned into a tangible brilliance, as if thousands of arrows had pierced through the heart, condensing in the void space. "The shadow of the Zither God! The Archean Bloodline... Junior Brother! Are you crazy?!" Brother Albert shouted angrily. Amongst the peak masters, there were quite a few people with Archean bloodlines. Ethan Cline's primordial bloodline was the bloodline of the Zither God.

"And you want me to sit here and receive that." He was quiet for a moment. "Tell me I'm wrong," I said. He didn't. "Then talk," I said. "Since you're here." He did. He had found my bloodline before I was born. He said it the same way he said everything, like information being delivered, like the fact that my entire existence had been engineered was simply data worth sharing. He had been tracking dormant Nightshade lines for decades. Following diluted bloodlines through generations of human families.

“What do you mean, more?” He tilted his head slightly, as if considering her question. "You think you're just a regular girl, don't you?" He chuckled darkly. "That your life ended when your parents disappeared, that you were just some orphan scraping by. But you're wrong, Karina. You're more than that. You're part of a bloodline—a very important one." Her heart stuttered in her chest. *Bloodline?* What was he talking about? "Your parents," he continued, as if reading her thoughts, "they weren’t just some random casualties of debt collectors. They were part of something much larger. And now, you’re tied to it too. Whether you like it or not."

The Voss family had known and had loved the child completely and entirely as their own. She had grown up in the warmth of people who had chosen her. That was real. That was not diminished. But the truth changed everything about the shape of the threat she was facing. She was not simply a she-wolf who happened to carry a compatible marker. She was a direct Holt bloodline, one generation removed. The Sovereign Match was not a chance alignment between two unrelated wolves of compatible genetics. It was a circle closing. Two branches of the same bloodline, separated by a generation of council interference, completing what their family had been prevented from completing thirty years ago.